The Silence of the Damned
by Umbrella-ella
Summary: 'After all, good things come to those who wait. And poor Anna had been waiting four years for her happy ending; she needn't wait much longer for it.' An introspection of Mrs. Hughes' thoughts following Mr. Bates' departure with Vera.


_A/N: So, instead of having an inside look at Anna and John's life (as I am in my other Downton fic), or rather, at this stage in particular, the destruction of what they're trying so desperately to hold on to, I've decided to go an alternate route; I will tell a snippet of their story through the eyes of Mrs. Hughes, because really, I'm not sure I understand how she didn't tell Anna about the conversation she overheard between Mr. Bates and Vera, though I can see why she might've held her tongue... if I squint hard enough. This is more of an addendum to my Anna/Bates fic _Parts of a Whole_, though it's not necessary to read that one to understand this one._

_Disclaimer: I own nothing but my laptop, a large collection of assorted teas, and an adorable cat who gets away with far too much. _

* * *

If Elsie Hughes knew one thing when she saw it, it was love.

And she saw it, sure enough. In the tearful eyes of her dearest housemaid.

Mr. Bates had recently departed; it'd not been more than an hour ago that she herself had stood on the graveled drive of Downton and watched him bounce away, forever chained to a vile woman with no further agenda than to torture the poor lad with her secrets.

She had overheard the conversation— well, quite enough of it to see why Mr. Bates was leaving. She watched as Anna bent her head to her needlework as everyone loitered around the Servant's Hall, listless. The family had yet to wake, and the cold of the early Spring morning had not treated the servants well. Elsie picked up her tea again, making a show of stirring it once more, and placed it to her lips, pausing as she watched Anna. The girl's hands trembled dreadfully and her eyes were blinking back tears rapidly. Stretching out her free hand, Elsie placed her hand on Anna's trembling one, a gesture of comfort that did not go unnoticed by the head housemaid.

"Is there something the matter, dear?" Of course, Elsie knew it was a stupid question, but she couldn't very well go on asking after Mr. Bates— not in front of O'Brien at least.

Swiping her eyes neatly, Anna answered, her voice nearly wavering, "Oh, I should think so. I just had a bit of a nightmare last night." Repealing her hand in surrender, she sipped her tea in silence. Well, nightmare was one way to describe it. The poor dear kept her eyes pinned to the stitching, not daring to meet the smirk of Miss O'Brien over the table. Elsie had half a mind to— she stopped herself short.

No, she would not blame others for their involvement. Truth be told, she was just as much to blame as O'Brien and Thomas, albeit a less active blame, but blame nonetheless. She had heard quite enough of the conversation to make her sick, and yet her thoughts swam with the words, muttered and muffled.

She had heard them, and now she wished to God she hadn't.

Now, watching as Anna bore this alone, this torturous grief of thinking Mr. Bates didn't love her as he should, of knowing nothing but a half-truth— Elsie felt her guilt of knowing the whole truth twist sharply into her chest, as if a terrible instrument had taken root there, driving her singular knowledge deeper and deeper, until her eyes stung with tears for the poor lass, so strong-minded and with a will of iron. She wished desperately to tell her head housemaid every last detail of the conversation she'd heard, and yet somehow, she knew it would make things worse than they already were, and quite frankly, in her state, she wasn't sure Anna could handle any more bad news.

Instead, Elsie resolved to protect the dear girl, to shelter her from anymore pain that might be slung her way. Even now, Elsie felt the guilt burrow deeper into her, chiding her wordlessly, for vowing to protect what she had been blind to four years before, when the arrival of a man with a limp and a simple friendship had sparked a love so strong and powerful that even she was aghast.

No, she would wait, she would stand by and help Anna through this terrible time, help her to stand tall in a sea of scandal, whatever came of it.

After all, _good things come to those who wait_. And poor Anna had been waiting four years for her happy ending; she needn't wait much longer for it.

Elsie, as damned as she might be for her silence, prayed for that at least.

* * *

_A/N: What do you think?_


End file.
